From Skincare to Shabbat: Discovering Rituals of Self-Care
It’s important to capture the essence of what I want to share: there are practical tools we can incorporate into our lives that can help us feel better—at any moment. We have the power to transform our daily experiences.
A few months ago, I was living what many would call an average life. I had my ups and downs, and sometimes I even enjoyed great days. Yet, it was challenging to identify the common thread connecting these experiences. What was causing my bad days? Was it a chemical imbalance? A rude remark from a coworker? Feelings of loneliness? My emotional state often resembled a sine wave, fluctuating unpredictably. To complicate matters, I was also grappling with a new skin condition: acne.
When the first few pimples appeared on my chin, I brushed them off, thinking, “I’m sure they’ll go away.” But after several weeks, I realized I needed to take action. I visited a highly recommended aesthetician, who patiently guided me through a skincare routine: wash my face twice daily with a .5% salicylic acid cleanser, use a hydrating toner, and apply an oil-free moisturizer with SPF 30.
I’m good at following directions, and the regimen was straightforward. After a few weeks, my skin began to glow, and the pimples faded. There were nights, though, when I came home late, changed into my pajamas, and then remembered I hadn’t washed my face. As I lay in bed contemplating whether to get up, I would think, “Does one day really matter?” My answer was always the same: “You need to take care of yourself. Washing your face is an act of self-love.” So, downstairs I went.
Establishing this simple skincare routine became my first ritual of self-care. While washing my face is now a mundane part of my day, it initially felt like a warm embrace from myself, a small yet meaningful act that affirmed my worth. This inspired me to seek out other ways to nurture myself—like flossing my teeth properly and observing Shabbat.
One Friday, despite my irreligious background, I invited a friend over for Shabbat dinner. She had grown up in a Reform household and embraced her Jewish identity. When I asked if she’d like to experience a traditional Friday night dinner, she eagerly agreed.
As I arrived home from work that Friday, I felt a spark of inspiration: “I know the laws of Shabbat. Why not embrace them, just for fun?” I tidied my apartment, prepared food, and lit the candles, creating an inviting space filled with warmth and light.
Shabbat dinner traditionally includes wine, bread, and meat, and I set my phone aside to avoid distractions. The evening unfolded with joy and laughter, and when it was time for bed, I felt an overwhelming sense of happiness. As I lay there, I began to sing a familiar song that mourns the departure of Shabbat. The lyrics express a deep longing for its return, but I realized that it’s not God who brings Shabbat back; it’s me.
I understood that if I returned home on Friday, turned on the TV, and left my space in disarray, Shabbat would not manifest. But by creating a clean, welcoming environment and engaging with the rituals, I could invite the beauty of Shabbat into my life.
The realization that I hold the power to cultivate such joy through simple actions—using my hands and observing the laws of Shabbat—is one of the most empowering gifts of Judaism.
These gifts are what I aim to share with you. I hope they resonate and help you find your path to a more meaningful and joyful life.
